


Half-dead and Completely Metal

by Bittyb0t



Category: Fallout: New Vegas, Original Work
Genre: Medical Procedures, More tags to be added, Other, Robot/Human Relationships, Robots, Slow Burn, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:27:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22989340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bittyb0t/pseuds/Bittyb0t
Summary: Apollo, a securitron turned medic, saves a man named Mica, who just so happens to hate robots with his guts, from a potential fatality in the desert. A story of self-discovery and the ability to change.
Relationships: Original Character/Original Character
Comments: 7
Kudos: 6





	Half-dead and Completely Metal

There was a large dark spot in the distance, just along the horizon. Upon analysis, it broke into four distinctly human shapes. Three of them seemed to be attacking the one on the ground, kicking and stomping. The ground-lier writhed and yelled expletives at the assaultants.

Apollo quickly hurried towards the scene of violence once they have taken in the situation and found the person to be in danger, wheel spinning against the ground. They knew they had to help somehow, their programming making them itch at the idea of a person losing their life out here in the desert.

Suddenly, there was a loud gunshot that echoed across the relatively flat, open land.

 _This isn’t good, I hope he isn’t dead!_ They picked up their pace, gravel crunching beneath their wheel, and soon came within close proximity to the group.

They appeared to be a raider group of some sort, or at least they were dressed like one. Apollo personally didn’t care for the nitty gritty of the various factions that inhabit the wasteland, so they did not get involved in the widespread affairs.

The three were quick to notice the giant military robot making a straight beeline towards them and fussed among each other, raising their guns threateningly.

It wasn’t Apollo’s first time being at the business end of a weapon or three- a surprising amount of wastelanders both feared and resented any form of weaponized machinery. Apollo could understand why and, rarely, used it to their advantage.

This was one of those times.

“Hey, you three, leave him alone!” They demanded, trying to sound tough and scary at the same time. While Apollo didn’t think of themselves as such, they weren’t repulsed by the idea of pretending. “I will vaporize you.”

“Fuck off, robot!” One shouted.

“Yeah, we’ll scrap you for parts!” Another chimed in.

Apollo didn’t appreciate being threatened. While they knew it was unlikely these three could do any real harm, it still angered them enough for them to allow the gatling laser built into their left arm to charge up, which emitted an audible whine as a warning.

That alone didn’t get as strong a reaction as they would have liked; the three definitely noticed, but it didn’t discourage them in the slightest. Apollo generally prefered passiveness over hostility, but sometimes people are stubborn!

Stubborn enough to target a robot, whose heavily armored chassis was built to withstand shrapnel from bombs, with the tiniest pistol.

A single bullet ricocheted off the metal, not even leaving behind a dint. It was like being shot with a peashooter! The sad little weapon wasn’t far from it, actually, Apollo noted.

“Ha! You think that would hurt me?” Apollo laughed loudly, frightening the one bold enough to take fire. “Luckily for you, I’m not in the mood to play!” And with that, they fired a quick round of lasers very close to the boots of the raider group, which left the ground singed.

The three quickly abandoned ship at the real possibility of getting evaporated, cursing loudly and falling over each other in their hurry to flee.

Apollo sent a few more zaps at the sandy ground for good measure. They watched for a moment, thinking of how they almost looked like radroaches with how they scuttled away frantically.

Turning away now that the ‘threat’, if you could even call those pathetic raiders that, was gone, they now focused on the crumpled form on the ground.

Getting a good look, Apollo could see that it was a man in his late 20s, who had dark hair and skin reddened from the sun. He was barely conscious, but seemed to fixate on Apollo’s form. He mumbled and reached out weakly, but his eyelids soon fluttered and he slumped against the ground. Blood was seeping out from his light armor in the abdominal region.

 _The gunshot_ , Apollo realized. _I can save him, I just have to get home._

Leaning forward, Apollo picked up his form and held him close, in a sort of bridal-style. They didn’t know what a bride was.

A shotgun lay beside him, along with several unspent bullets. They took the gun as well, thinking it was a personal item. If not, it could have some worth to it. Caps for medical supplies were always welcome.

They started in the direction of their home, taking the quickest way. They were going as fast as they could manage, but they still feared about the dirtied, bloody human in their metallic arms.

“Don’t die,” Apollo pressed a steely hand, claws retracted, against the location of injury, attempting to stifle the blood flow. “Please.”

They tried to distract themselves in the meantime, thinking of who the man was. A mercenary? Another raider? His armor matched the other three in style, which led them to believe he was in a group with them. Evidently, he had some kind of falling-out with them that led to this violence.

Thankfully, they weren’t too far from their home. A lone shack came within sight, clearly constructed by humans from scavenged and recycled materials.

Quickly wheeling inside the patchwork structure, Apollo placed the man on their medical bed, which they had only for patients. The idea of a several thousand pound securitron sleeping in a bed was a humorous thought, though. They have had to resist giving it a try.

The armor was a bit of a hassle to strip off, so Apollo resolved to cut through the straps of the weathered material with a nearby blade. Hopefully he didn’t pay much for it, as the leather did not do such a good job at protecting its wearer.

Once his body was exposed, Apollo checked the lightly muscled back for an exit wound, only to find none. They weren’t sure if they needed to remove the bullet or not just yet.

They left his pants alone, for human modesty and all that. However, they did remove the knife and revolver from his belt before stashing them away in a safe locker.

It doesn’t hurt to be safe, but treating this injury will. Apollo strapped the man’s prone form down just in case he woke, not wanting to risk doing more damage with their inconveniently sized claws if he were to jolt or thrash.

Upon closer examination, Apollo deduced that removing the bullet now would cause more harm than necessary. From the position and depth of the wound, no internal organs should have been hit.

They reached for their kit of medical supplies secured around his middle chassis, pulling out a package of cotton and gauze. They also grabbed the container of antiseptic, which was actually alcohol, and proceeded to cleanse the wound warily.

The unconscious man twitched from the sting of it but did not stir, thankfully.

After the wound was cleaned, Apollo was swift to pack it with the cotton and bandage over it with the gauze before the blood welled up again.

Once the main injury was treated and Apollo was sure that he was stable for now, they cleansed his face too along with excess blood and dirt. They couldn’t help but examine his facial features, noting that he could be considered an attractive human. The rough look that the relatively minor injuries added to his face fit, too, without marring his appearance too bad. The rest of his bodily cuts and scrapes were dealt with too, but without much regard.

Now that their newfound patient was treated, Apollo settled to the side of the cot, in front of the old, actually working television. They bought it from a mechanic that had restored it, to provide some entertainment for the patients. To be honest, Apollo enjoyed its company too.

Slipping in a movie tape, from the old world before the war, Apollo tried to distract themself from the itching worry regarding this mysterious, hurt man that encompassed his plating with the soft tunes of a show.

All they could do was wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woo! i had wanted to write something with these characters that have been living in my head for a while now.   
> please let me know if you enjoyed it and would like to see more of their story! i am going to continue this either way.
> 
> comments, kudos, and criticisms are appreciated!


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